


Another Change in Dynamics

by isuilde



Category: Free!
Genre: (and MakoRin being gross as usual), Awkward Conversations, Established Relationship, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Unbeta-ed, also they're all in first name basis because BEST FRIENDS, and this mainly focuses on Rin and Sousuke's friendship, break-ups, excessive use of italics i hate myself, in which Rin-Sousuke-Makoto-Haru are all best buddies in the future or sth, one-sided sou>rin tbh, post-canon maybe idk anymore, this fic might also be confusing because it jumps back and forth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-23
Updated: 2014-10-23
Packaged: 2018-02-22 06:36:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2498192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isuilde/pseuds/isuilde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I used to love you, you know. Way back then.”</p><p>But <i>first love</i> also means most likely Sousuke is still in love with Rin—Rin whose heart is completely Makoto’s, because Rin only knows how to throw his love completely to one person, and because Makoto gives him his heart, his faith, his everything in return. Rin, who loves and desires and treasures friendship with everything he has, and at the same time only has one love to give, and that isn’t Sousuke.</p><p>He loves Sousuke, because they’re best friends and Sousuke knows him better than anyone, because Sousuke is a constant that never suffocates him, because Sousuke holds the same place in his heart as Haruka.</p><p>(In which Rin deals with the change in his relationship with Sousuke, and finds out that it's not only about them.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Change in Dynamics

**Author's Note:**

> Something happened, and somehow this is my way to deal with it.
> 
> I apologize in advance if this seems all over the place, especially the ending, because truthfully, I don't know how to end this in the best way, so I go with the ending that I wish for. Unbeta-ed because it turned out far longer than I intended it to be, and I don't wanna bug my lovely beta with 11k++ oneshot when she's busy.
> 
> This is about love and friendship, but mostly friendship.

They are twenty four years old, sitting in Sousuke’s favorite favorite pizza parlor, talking over empty plates and half-filled glasses, stomaches pleasantly full and hearts satisfyingly content over the laughter sneaking in-between words. It’s been a while, Rin thinks, that he gets to spend time with only Sousuke, throwing snarks and grinning over stories both important and unimportant. 

And then Sousuke says, “There’s something you probably should know. About me.” 

Rin blinks, and then straightens, because something in the back of his mind is _tickling_ him, and maybe it’s because they have been friends for almost their whole lives, or maybe it’s the way Sousuke’s forefinger taps the edge of the table in somewhat jerky movements, but Rin suddenly realizes that he knows, he knows what Sousuke is going to say. 

No, Rin thinks, because he might be pretty oblivious when it comes to this kind of things, but when he realizes something, it’s always in a way that’s not unlike a trainwreck: one thing leads to another and then another, and everything suddenly makes sense—the way Sousuke had looked at him back in elementary school when he decided to move to Iwatobi, the letters exchanged between Tokyo and Australia, the reason Sousuke practically chased him over to Samezuka and lied about his shoulder, the way Sousuke had been so irritated at Haruka when he thought Haruka was standing on Rin’s way, the reason Sousuke pushed through his therapy and made it into the National Team in the end because once Rin said he was going to wait for him— 

He knows. He knows what Sousuke is going to say. 

He watches Sousuke swallow, watches him take a deep breath, watches him trying to stall the inevitable, and Rin has a second to wonder what’s going to happen to us now, before Sousuke opens his mouth and the words tumble out. 

“I used to love you, you know. Way back then.” 

**\-----o0o-----**

He doesn’t say anything to Makoto when he comes home, because it’s late and he’s sure Makoto’s already asleep anyway. 

 _Home_ is really Makoto’s—his apartment, to be exact. Over the course of their relationship, which had turned five years old last summer, Rin has had three different apartments he claimed as _home_. This one, a comfortable apartment with two bedrooms, a bathroom and a living room leading to a studio kitchen, is the one he’s only started calling home five months ago when Makoto decided to move here. 

He spends most of the year in Sydney, only coming back when the National Team camp is about to begin and holidays, which are usually spent somewhere else instead of Tokyo (Okinawa for the camp, usually, and they all always try to go back to Iwatobi for holidays). Coming to Tokyo is really something he only does once every other month, spending at least a week before flying back to Australia, so if he gets practical, he should probably say that his home is the apartment he rents in Australia. But Makoto’s apartment has things that are inherently Rin’s—the right side of the closet is filled Rin’s clothes and old jackets and silly knick-knacks, there are bottles of spices Rin likes to use when he cooks arranged by his own order above the kitchen sink and jars of Rin’s favorite brand of coffee in the kitchen cabinet, Rin’s old swimming competition tapes are stacked neatly in a box under the TV, there are a pair of toothbrush,  two different brands of shampoo and two electric shavers in different colors in the bathroom. It’s where he comes back to every day when he’s in Tokyo, it’s the address he’d put in when he sends something _home_ from Australia, it’s the one he invites his friends to come over. 

Thus, Makoto’s apartment is his home. 

Rin shuffles quietly through the darkened living room—it’s only fifteen past midnight, but he’s glad Makoto is already asleep. Tomorrow is the prefectural swim meet, and Makoto can’t afford to be late because half the kids competing are new, and they would need their coach to be there. Makoto might not be the only coach in the swimming club, but he’s certainly been the kids’ favorite since he started coaching two years ago, and Rin really never expects anything else. 

Their bedroom—yes, it’s technically Makoto’s, but it’s a queen and Rin’s presence is expected to be there—is completely dark, but when Rin closes the door quietly behind him, Makoto’s voice rise. “Rin…?” 

He doesn’t sound like he’s been sleeping. Rin takes a breath, aware that he’s hiding something from someone who could lie so well that Haruka only found out about their relationship three months after they hooked up, and lets his lips make an upward curve. “Hey. I thought you were asleep.” 

“I was going to,” there’s amusement in Makoto’s voice. “I guess I got used to how warm the bed is for the past three days.” 

That steals a laugh from Rin. Not bothering to turn on the lights, he takes off his sweater and shirt, waiting for his eyes to adjust before walking over to the working desk and leaves them there. “That’s what my life is, now? Your bed warmer?” 

“Mmhm,” and Rin likes it, the absent quality in Makoto’s hum that tells him how comfortable Makoto feels right now. He turns, sees Makoto stretched on the bed, the blankets pulled up to his torso, hair already mussed up from turning back and forth on the bed trying to sleep, probably. His eyes are clear when they meet Rin’s in the darkness, happy and content, and Rin is suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to kiss him. “Like the sun.” 

So unfair, Rin thinks, and he groans in mock-exasperation. “Sap.” 

But Makoto is grinning, probably because Rin is laughing now as he strips down to his boxers and tanktop—pajamas are something he bothers with when he isn’t sleeping on the same bed as Makoto—before closing the gap between the closet and the bed in six long strides. The blankets shift, and then it’s Makoto’s arms opening before him, inviting him in like they always do even back before sleeping in the same bed becomes part of their routine, and just like he always does back then, Rin moves into them. 

It’s warm. Rin is pulled in further, down until he’s practically sprawled half on top of Makoto. Makoto chuckles, presses their foreheads together before their lips meet once, chastely. “Rin, you’re freezing.” 

Rin rolls his eyes. “It’s a week before Christmas, it’s Tokyo and not Sydney.” He pauses as Makoto shifts them together under the blankets, and rests his head on Makoto’s chest with a sigh. “I like winter Christmas better anyway.” 

“Lies,” Makoto jostles him gently, each of his word a familiar vibration under Rin’s ear. “You love summer.” 

“Everyone loves summer,” Rin says, closes his eyes when he feels Makoto’s fingers running through his hair, untangling the knots, lingering at the tips. He listens to the steady thump-thump-thump and each breath Makoto takes and releases, feels himself relaxing even more against the bulk of Makoto’s figure, like he’s about to melt into Makoto if he just lets himself go. 

Home, he thinks, because this is where Makoto is. He leans up and steals a bite of Makoto’s exposed collarbone, careful not to leave a mark the kids could see tomorrow, but enough to make the steady thump-thump-thump picks up pace a little. 

The fingers never let go of his hair, though. “Did you manage to drink Sousuke under the table this time?” 

Rin snorts. “We forgot to try.” 

“Lots of things to tell him?” 

“Lots of things to talk about,” Rin corrects half-heartedly, ducking to hide a yawn into Makoto’s skin. He thinks of Sousuke, and the way he tensed when Rin hugged him before they parted ways earlier at the station, and wonders how long it would take for them to adjust. “Serious things. Like how you only use me for a bed warmer.” 

Makoto chuckles, but there’s sleep lacing the sound now. “He’s going to kill me when we meet tomorrow, then.” 

“It’s okay, you can hide behind me.” 

“How generous of you, Rin.” 

Rin bumps the top of his head against Makoto’s chin gently. “Go to sleep, Coach, you promised Mari-chan to help her with her entry form before the race tomorrow.” 

In between sleepy, slurred good-nights and Makoto’s arm tightening around his waist, Rin closes his eyes and buries his face into the crook of Makoto’s neck, recognizes the familiar burst of happiness and contentment trying to pull him over to sleep. He thinks of Sousuke’s words, thinks of Sousuke’s mail he received on the train— _you were my first love, actually_ —and wishes the past tense Sousuke used is true. 

Because he knows it’s not. Because there are first love and there are _first love,_ that is a constant drive of your life, and Rin doesn’t think of himself any special, but he isn’t naïve enough to think that he never affects other people deeply. 

He certainly isn’t naïve enough to think that the way Sousuke tensed in his arms was nothing. 

**\-----o0o-----**

The first thing that he recognizes bubbling inside his chest is that he’s flattered. That’s probably why he laughs. 

Sousuke tenses, though. “I should punch you in the face,” he grumbles, one hand coming up to cover his upper face in exasperation, but there’s a soft shade of red on his cheeks and his other hand is still finger-tapping nervously on the edge of the table. He’s avoiding Rin’s eyes, and that probably what makes Rin straightens up, pushing down the urge to grin and laugh, because there is fear written on Sousuke’s set of shoulders, and he hates seeing that. 

“Sorry,” his lips are twitching up despite his efforts, though, because he’s absolutely flattered. This is Sousuke, he reminds himself, his childhood friends who wears clothes designed for old men, who never changes his hairstyle, who is secretly just as much into chick flicks as Rin is. This is Sousuke, who is one of the most loyal and strong and amazing people Rin has ever meet, someone he’s extremely proud to call best friend, who’s always been there for Rin when he needs him. Sousuke, who deserves the best the world could offer, and who wouldn’t be flattered if someone like Sousuke confessed to them? “Sorry, sorry, I was just—“ 

And then the second thing hits him, smaller and slower, and more frightening, somehow: Rin had never noticed. Not once. 

“—flattered,” he finishes anyway, his grin tampering down to a small smile. “You used to be?” 

Sousuke shrugs. “Yeah, until two years ago.” And then, much to Rin’s relief, he throws a smirk. “Not now. I mean, I love you now, but in a more—friends. Best friends way. I just thought I should let it out, since you know I wanted to consider getting serious with Mayu. If I still have regrets about you, it would be unfair to her.” He frowns then. “You’re so weird. People would normally freak out when their best friend confess, you know.” 

Rin raises an eyebrow. “It wasn’t even a confession, you said it in the goddamn past tense.” He reaches for his glass, slowly sips his beer, his mind whirling. Until three years ago—which means even long after Rin started dating Makoto. Long after Sousuke and Makoto became karaoke buddies, long after Sousuke started crashing at Makoto or Haruka’s place when he missed the last train home, and a little after Sousuke started dating Mayumi. “You know it doesn’t matter to me, right? You’re still my best friend.” 

Sousuke snorts. “Only because you’re a stubborn brat,” he shoots back, fondness lacing his voice, and Rin wonders why it’s easier to catch that tone now, after Sousuke confessed. “I was in love with you for a really long time, and you didn’t even notice. Blockhead.” 

Rin leans forward, now that Sousuke’s brought up that topic. Curiosity wars with guilt in him, somehow, and maybe that’s why the words slip out even before he realizes it: “Did I ever—hurt you?” 

Sousuke pauses in raising his glass to his lips, a thoughtful look crossing his face. Then he looks at Rin with that small smile—one he reserves for him, Rin realizes, now that he realizes a lot of things at the same time—and answers, “I’d be lying if I say no.” 

Rin looks down. “Sorry,” it comes out weaker than he intended it to, so he clears his throat and tries again. “Sorry. I didn’t—never noticed.” 

Sousuke laughs. “Honestly, I didn’t even expect you to. I don’t think I ever hoped, either—I mean, I wasn’t even sure if you swing that way—“ 

“Hey,” Rin protests feebly. 

“—and when I was sure you _do_ swing that way, you were pining over Makoto who’d been pining over you since high school, and by the way, you never noticed that either back then, did you?” 

“Shut up,” Rin scowls, but half of him is glad that Sousuke is half-mocking him, that the atmosphere isn’t half as awkward as he fears. He’s definitely glad that Sousuke still has the gall to smirk at him. “Fine, I know I was dense—“ 

“You didn’t realize that Makoto is so gone for you until two weeks before he confessed.” 

“I told you, I suspected, but I wasn’t sure—I had the right to get insecure when I’m in love with someone, okay—“ 

“Sure, yeah, you were young and you knew nothing.” Sousuke rolls his eyes, then laughs when Rin flicks a straw at him in annoyance. “I think it was cute.” 

Rin regards him curiously. “Did you ever get jealous?” 

“Not really,” Sousuke replies, the small smile back now. “Once or twice, I can’t remember who I was jealous with, though.” He glances at the clock, eyebrows knitted, before knocking back his glass and downs the last of his beer. “C’mon Rin, it’s almost midnight, I promised Mayu to get home before today ends.” 

**\-----o0o-----**

That is probably his first clue: Sousuke’s sudden need to hurry home. 

His second one is how Sousuke jams his hands deep into his coat pockets, keeping a constant distance of half-an-arm length from Rin as they walk down the street from the pizza parlor to the station. His third is the different sound of Sousuke’s silence as Rin tells him about Gou’s latest diet menu, and how Sousuke never meets his eyes when he glances sideways. 

Above everything, Rin is scared. 

“Sousuke,” he says, stopping on the first step down the subway entrance. Sousuke halts, turns at him with a questioning hum, waiting. Rin takes only a second to hesitate, because the fear is threatening to claw through his throat, because he can’t imagine not having Sousuke in his world, can’t imagine not having his best friend there to turn to, and blurts out, “You know I don’t mind. This—doesn’t change anything. You know.” 

Sousuke raises an eyebrow. “Yeah.” 

And maybe this isn’t the right thing to do, maybe it’s just Rin being selfish for not wanting to lose Sousuke’s friendship, but Rin isn’t going to lose anything he has without a fight, so he pushes through and says, “So don’t be so awkward. With me.” 

It earns him a long, silent stare. 

“Yeah,” Sousuke answers, eventually, with the same small smile that’s long become a part of Rin’s normalcy. “I’ll try.” 

Rin breaks into his patented Matsuoka grin, relief whirling through his whole being, because for now, it’s enough. It has to be enough, for them to start adjusting with whatever change this is going to bring. 

Except when his train arrives and Rin throws his arms around Sousuke’s shoulders, Sousuke stiffens, his whole body going rigid in Rin’s arms, and that’s when Rin knows everything isn’t going to be easy. 

**\-----o0o-----**

“You’re completely out of it today,” Haruka comments, startling Rin completely. He looks up to see Haruka standing before him, curious blue eyes staring down impassively, but Rin knows enough to read the slight amusement hiding in the lines of Haruka’s face. “And not even watching Makoto.” 

Rin’s gaze slides towards where Makoto stands with the kids from his club not far from them, cheering at someone doing the 50 meters backstroke down in the pool. Sousuke is sitting just off to Makoto’s side, surprisingly popular with the kids judging by the many little arms poking and pulling and clinging on him. Then again, the kids are probably familiar enough with Sousuke and Haruka by now, considering they visit the club when they’re not training, unlike Rin who can’t do so because he’s usually far away in Sydney. 

“Rin.” 

Rin sighs. “Yeah.” 

Haruka moves, quiet still, as he takes the seat next to Rin, blocking the view of Makoto, Sousuke and the kids. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even look at Rin, just stares down to the pool like he’s listening to the echoing chants of Makoto and the children, but Rin knows he’s waiting. Unlike Makoto, Haruka doesn’t ask what is wrong. Unlike Sousuke, Haruka doesn’t push. This, Rin has grown to understand, is Haruka’s way to tell Rin to talk: waiting in silence until Rin groans and caves in, until Rin decides to use words. 

“Ugh,” Rin says, even if he’s planned to tell Haruka anyway, just out of habit. Haruka spares him a glance before turning back to watch the race—Rin doesn’t even know which one Makoto and the kids are cheering for. Judging from the chants growing louder and more excited, though, it was probably the one currently winning. 

“This is going to sound ridiculous,” Rin starts, one hand resting on his nape as he flounders for words. How does he even start? Where does he even start? “You’d probably laugh.” 

“Haha,” Haruka replies blandly, because he’s grown some sense of humor these past years, and Rin elbows him on the side for that. “Ow.” 

“Serves you right,” Rin huffs. “This is serious.” 

Haruka’s shoulders straighten ever-so-slightly, and Rin takes that as a cue to start the story. 

**\-----o0o------**

The train has barely started leaving the second stop when Rin’s phone vibrates and Sousuke’s name flashes above a mail notification. 

Rin takes a deep breath and taps the screen. 

 _Sorry. I kind of lied, before. You were my first love, actually._  

Something in his stomach drops. He thinks he would have believed it, before, when Sousuke used past tense in his confession. That maybe Sousuke is over him, that maybe Sousuke is as happy and content with Mayumi as Rin is with Makoto (sometimes he hopes more, because Sousuke deserves all the world’s best for putting up with all Rin’s shit when they were younger). That maybe the awkwardness hanging above their heads is a one-time thing because confession is always embarrassing, and tomorrow Sousuke will be back to grin at Rin, to elbow or kick Rin gently, to bump their shoulders comfortably. 

But first love. Rin kind of wants to laugh, because there is first love and there is _first love_ , and he’s pretty sure Sousuke means the second one, because he’s gone to such a length for Rin, done so much, and yet still, he holds on. 

But _first love_ also means most likely Sousuke is still in love with Rin—Rin whose heart is completely Makoto’s, because Rin only knows how to throw his love completely to one person, and because Makoto gives him his heart, his faith, his everything in return. Rin, who loves and desires and treasures friendship with everything he has, and at the same time only has one love to give, and that isn’t Sousuke. 

He loves Sousuke, because they’re best friends and Sousuke knows him better than anyone, because Sousuke is a constant that never suffocates him, because Sousuke holds the same place in his heart as Haruka. 

 _Yeah? It really doesn’t matter, Sousuke. Even if you were still in love with me now, nothing changes. We’re best friends._  

Lies. Rin knows better, now. Humans are never still—they’re all a subject of constant change, and relationships change as they do. The second Sousuke decides to confess, their whole relationship changes. Subtly, in ways that don’t seem to be visible for others, but changes nonetheless, hanging above their heads, filling every space between them, floating in between every syllable they speak out. 

Rin knows. 

 _You’re so weird. Fine, don’t get awkward on me, and I won’t get awkward on you._  

But he’s also known to be steadfast and determined, if maybe selfish to no end. Matsuoka Rin isn’t going to ever lose anything without a fight. Not a bet, not a race, definitely not a best friend. 

And Rin decides to fight. 

 _Nothing changes._  

**\-----o0o-----**

Haruka doesn’t say anything, when Rin finishes. 

Another heat ends, another part of the swimming facility erupts in cheers. Makoto and the others are simply clapping though, probably none of the club members participate in the heat just now. At some point when he was telling the story, Haruka had shifted closer, their shoulders now pressing comfortably, and Rin is grateful for the silent support. 

“I think,” Rin says, still unsure of his words, but knows this isn’t something he could explain without them. “Sousuke is still in love with me.” He pauses, makes a face at how the words sound in his ears. “Or at least, you know. He still has feelings left from when he’s in love with me.” 

“With you,” Haruka nods slowly. “And with Mayumi-san.” 

“Yeah,” because even with all the fights Sousuke has with Mayumi, even with all the frustration Sousuke would come to Rin with whenever Mayumi treats him with silence, Sousuke had been a wreck when Mayumi first collapsed after a heart attack, and he’d refused to leave Mayumi’s bedside even when he has to attend a friendly swim meet scheduled for the National Team. Rin knows Sousuke like the back of his hand—there’s no way Sousuke would last two years being in a relationship with someone he doesn’t love. 

After all, Mayumi had been Sousuke’s very reason to confess to Rin. 

The silence between him and Haruka stretches longer, until Haruka finally says, “I don’t know what to say.” 

Rin snorts humorlessly. “I kind of didn’t expect you to, Haru.” 

“But,” Haruka’s eyes, deep blue, slide sideways to find Rin’s. “You’re not sure.” 

“I just—“ the corner of Rin’s eyes catch Makoto’s figure stepping forward, reaching for a nine-year-old who looks paler than the tiles, a supportive smile already etched on his face. It’s funny, how Rin’s gaze helplessly follows Makoto’s movement when he’s in sight. “—I don’t want to screw up. Fuck if I have to lose my best friend over something that we both couldn’t help.” _Something that makes them into who they are now_ , Rin doesn’t say, but it isn’t something anyone but him and Sousuke could understand anyway. 

Haruka nods, again, like it’s the only thing he’s sure enough to give to Rin. Like he hears the things crowding Rin’s mind: _should I step back? Should I give Sousuke space? Is it okay to keep being so friendly now that I know he might see it differently?_ Silly questions, Rin thinks, because they’re best friends, and Rin is willing to give up none of Sousuke’s smirk, mockery, or kicks over this. 

None. God, he doesn’t want to. 

“I don’t want to hurt him,” Rin murmurs, too raw, too honest, and Haruka presses closer against his side, face as impassive as ever, even as the line of his lips curves down slightly. 

The nine-year-old that Makoto is talking to is making his way out of the group, a look of determination set in his face now, and both Rin and Haruka stare at the kid as he turned towards the stairs down to the pool, disappearing from their sights. And then Rin turns, eyes instinctively drawn to Makoto, who just happens to glance his way and catches his gaze, and smiles. 

Rin wonders, whether things would be easier if he didn’t fall for Makoto. Wonders if then he could give Sousuke what he wants, makes Sousuke happier, because if there’s someone who deserves happiness the most, it’s Sousuke. 

“Rin,” Haruka says, because Haruka understands too, how Rin and Makoto and Sousuke work. “When are you going to tell Makoto?” 

Rin almost laughs, because it’s not a question whether he’s going to tell Makoto or not, it’s not a question whether he should tell Makoto or not. He will tell Makoto, sooner or later, because it’s the way they work, it’s what defines their relationship, and Rin’s never been a good liar, anyway. 

“I don’t know,” Rin says truthfully. He thinks of Makoto, who worried over Sousuke’s shoulder, who asked things in detail about Sousuke’s rehabilitation, who had taken to be there for Sousuke when Rin couldn’t, who offered friendship because Sousuke is one of Rin’s most important persons. He thinks of Sousuke, telling Rin that Tachibana Makoto is the embodiment of everything unfair and ridiculous, Sousuke who learned to accept in return when he gives out, who grew to trust and enjoyed Makoto and Haruka’s company. He thinks of a friendship forged when he wasn’t there, of a friendship that might have started because of him, but grew because they each saw a friend in the other. 

Rin watches as Sousuke gets up, taps Makoto’s shoulder and says something Rin can’t hear, but makes Makoto laugh anyway. 

He wonders what would change between Sousuke and Makoto, too, if he tells Makoto about this. 

**\-----o0o-----**

Makoto traces a trail down Rin’s neck with his fingertips, forefinger hooking in the dip of Rin’s collarbone, and bends down to kiss Rin, deep and thorough and filthy, and Rin almost comes right then and there. 

“Ngghh—“ he whines, every nerve singing at the slightest touch of Makoto’s fingers, at the delicious slide of Makoto’s body, at the unbearable heat trapped in the scant spaces between their bodies. “Ah—haaah, Mako—“ 

Makoto hums against his jaw, shifting slightly, and Rin nearly can’t breathe—he feels full, almost too full; it doesn’t matter how many times they have sex, the sensation never ceases to overwhelm him. His whole body thrums, anticipation and pain and pleasure rendering his mind useless as he flounders for words to make Makoto _move, deeper, faster, do something_ — 

Above him, Makoto groans, deep and helpless like he’s the one who can’t handle the heat, the sensations, the very presence of Rin. Like he’s the one so close to giving up, when it’s Rin who can’t quite catch his breath. “Rin,” Makoto whispers, almost soundless, as their foreheads press together, hard. Rin breathes in the exhale of his name, turns it into a low growl, a _fucking warning_ , and Makoto laughs against his lips, _so impatient_ , Rin feels rather than hears, and then Makoto _moves_. 

Rin’s mouth falls open, slack, as the pain prickles and blends into pleasure—slowly, agonizingly. Not enough, never enough, “Makoto—“ he pants out, breathless, arching up to meet Makoto’s next thrust, tries to get him deeper, deeper, _deeper_. “Ah, fuck—Makoto, haaa—aaah…” 

Faster. He can’t—he needs— 

“Today,” Makoto murmurs, his words strangely crystal clear in Rin’s ear. “Did something happen?” 

“Hnggg…aah—what—“ 

“You were acting strange,” each syllable, punctuated with a thrust that sends delicious prickles of sensation to the tips of his fingers. “You and Sousuke, you—ah, Ri—nnnn—“ 

Rin pants out a laugh, watches Makoto’s face crumples, drawing out the whine reverberating in Makoto’s throat. He leans up, licks his way into Makoto’s mouth, hips bucking up to meet Makoto’s next thrust. There’s something about the way Makoto looks when they’re like this, something about how everything on his face shatters completely and the way he shudders, like Rin is breaking Makoto completely, into little pieces with jagged edges and sharp shards that don’t fit each other. And as Rin urges him faster, deeper, closer, Makoto comes alive, movements sharp and beautiful, eyes alight both with pleasure and warmth, gazing at Rin like Rin is the one who picks up those little pieces that don’t fit and constructs something else—a new piece, a new Makoto, each more brilliant than the last one. 

Makoto etches Rin’s name into the lines of Rin’s jaw, traces undecipherable shapes of heat and pleasure and love down Rin’s chest, and Rin holds on, holds on until Makoto leans up and presses their foreheads together, green eyes locking into Rin’s red ones, and Rin hears _I love you, I love you, I love you_ — 

 _I love you_ , Rin thinks back, but what comes out is a long whine as he burns too hot, too fast, and Makoto’s name leaves his lips as his back arches and he lets go, the world spinning into blurred, meaningless forms, and the only thing that keeps him grounded is Makoto’s scent, and Makoto’s own heat burning him as Makoto too, lets go. 

 _I love you_ , Rin thinks again, when the world comes back into focus and Makoto’s lips move against his own, unhurried and soft. Makoto looks up, eyes dancing, and laughs like he’s the happiest person in the world. 

The sound, so happy and warm, takes away Rin’s breath. 

**\-----o0o-----**

He stands next to Sousuke as the kids assemble themselves into some sort of an order, wide eyes excited and worried at the same time, and Makoto stands in the front with the club’s other coaches, giving last words of approval and encouragements before they all leave the swimming facility. Sousuke lets him, simply glances at him and offers him a grin, but it’s weak and Sousuke’s fingers tremble slightly when he pulls his jacket closer around him. 

“What?” Rin raises an eyebrow, the word nearly caught in his throat because his heart is pounding so hard— _he might still like me_ flashes across his mind, and Rin remembers himself five years ago, where he simultaneously wished for Makoto’s phone call and for Makoto to stop calling him, because his phone calls both brightened his day and made something in Rin constrict painfully. 

And then there’s him and Sousuke, and all the friendly jabs and arm slung around shoulders and gentle kicks on legs, and those should hurt Sousuke, too, the way these things had hurt Rin back when he hadn’t known about Makoto’s feelings. But there’s also _nothing changes_ and _we’re still best friends_ and _don’t get awkward on me, and I won’t get awkward on you_ and for the first time after so long, Rin feels like he doesn’t know where he stands. 

“Freezing,” Sousuke mutters, hands already jammed into the pockets of his jacket. Rin tries snorting, relieved when it comes out normally, and kicks Sousuke’s shin lightly.

“Weakass,” he throws. Sousuke’s lips twitch upwards, but he doesn’t say anything, just huddles up into himself like he’s trying to make himself smaller, eyes darting everywhere that is not Rin’s. 

Rin could almost hear the pang in his chest. 

**\-----o0o-----**

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Haruka says, because he’s never said anything that isn’t honest. Rin doesn’t blame him. Nothing about their relationships and dynamics are simple enough for the others to understand. 

They’re leaning on the rails now, looking down on the pool where the first heat of 100m breaststroke is beginning. The cries and cheers of the audience nearly drown every word Haruka and Rin exchange, if not for the fact that their heads are nearly knocked together. From this distance, Rin could see the slight furrow of Haruka’s eyebrows, the only indication that his friend’s mind is whirring. 

They’re silent until the first heat ends, followed by a noticeable groan of disappointment from the club’s kids, and Rin hears Makoto’s voice rise, telling them that their friend had worked hard and tried their hardest, and that winning isn’t everything. Rin’s lips twitches upwards—his mind revisiting a memory of his last visit to Iwatobi, of a cherry blossom tree and old bricks with fading words he could only decipher out of memory: _I swim free for the team_. 

“Rin,” Haruka says, and when Rin turns to him, there’s something close to defiance in the set of Haruka’s shoulders. His eyes are hard when they find Rin’s own. “Is this a choice, for you?” 

For a second, he doesn’t get what Haruka means. For a second, his mind fumbles around for any context, tries to wrap around Haruka’s words, and then Rin blinks and balks. 

“No,” he hisses, indignant that Haruka would even think that. “No, I’m not—goddammit, Haru, this isn’t a choice, this isn’t about choosing Sousuke or Makoto, I would never even consider—“ 

But Haruka stares at him, long, and the words die in Rin’s throat. 

Oh. He’s lying. Or not, not completely, maybe. But the realization is enough to feel the guilt lancing through him, clogging his throat and seizing his chest, and Rin closes his mouth, tells himself to _breathe through the pain, Matsuoka, you can’t run away from this, not when there’s so much at stake_. 

Somehow, the thought of not wanting to hurt Sousuke had subconsciously been translated as perhaps Rin should give him what he wants, perhaps Rin should give whatever Sousuke needs, perhaps he should leave Makoto and date Sousuke instead— 

A small thought, unbidden, born from his single wish of not wanting to be the one hurting Sousuke. 

“It’s not a choice,” he says harshly, more to himself than to Haruka’s gaze.  “It’s never going to be a choice. I won’t fucking allow it to be a choice.” 

Haruka looks away, tension visibly bleeding off his body. “I might have to deck you one, if you think this is a choice,” he tells Rin, voice low but unthreatening, simply sounding sad. 

“I know,” Rin says, and he repeats it in his head: _it’s not a choice_. 

It’s really not, when Rin knows he loves Sousuke the same way he loves Haruka, treasures Sousuke the same way he treasures Gou. Pretending to love Sousuke the way he loves Makoto would be disrespectful, not to mention unfair to everyone, and nothing would come out of that. 

“It’s okay,” Haruka says, syllables awkward and stilted because they both know it’s a lie, and Haruka doesn’t lie. “It’s you, Rin, so it’ll be okay.” 

Rin wishes he has his usual confidence about this, now. 

**\-----o0o-----**

_Sorry. I got weird. You looked like you weren’t sure what to do, so I got weird, too, I guess._  

Rin stares at the message for a long time, his other hand pausing in bringing his cup of coffee up towards his lips. His mind automatically tries to come up with a response, but the line unders Sousuke’s name still indicates ‘ _typing’_ , so he waits. And waits. And waits. 

Sousuke’s next message comes in far too short sentence, considering the time he’d taken to type it out. 

 _I’m sorry I lied, Rin. I think I still have feelings for you._  

“Rin,” Makoto says, a hint of frown in his voice, and Rin turns towards where Makoto is rummaging the fridge, his shirt riding up as he bends down and pokes his head further into the fridge. “I think I’m out of chocolates.” 

Rin huffs out a laugh, leans back against the kitchen counter to indulge himself at the fine shape of Makoto’s ass. There’s that familiar urge to drag Makoto back into their room for another round tonight, except it’s almost one thirty in the morning and tomorrow is the relay race, and there’s no way he’d let Makoto stay up past two. “Are you sure it isn’t shoved to the back of the fridge when Haru came over the other day wanting to borrow mackerel?” He snorts at the memory, because who the fuck actually borrows mackerel? Haruka, that’s who. 

“No..” Makoto shifts sideways, and Rin is starting to consider the value in going for a quick round before they go to sleep. After he finish his coffee. “I wonder if Sousuke ate the last one.” 

Ah. Rin glances back down at his phone, thumb still poised to start typing, and his mind comes up with a blank. He takes a breath, casts a glance at Makoto’s ass still waggling in the air, and turns around. “Come be my human heater on the couch when you give up the search.” 

“Good to know I’m still of use,” Makoto calls back, laughter hanging in his voice, one that draws a smile on Rin’s face no matter what. Except then he looks back at his phone and the guilt came full-force, a solid weight that wipes off his smile completely. 

 _I knew you’re an idiot,_ he types off. _I’m questioning your taste in men._

His phone blinks in a matter of seconds after. _I’m telling Makoto that you just called him an idiot, too._  

The semblance of normalcy sends a flood of relief through him. He types, _yeah well, fuck you_ , and pauses, before backtracking and deleting the swear words. Maybe not the best thing to say to Sousuke, now. _Makoto is different, don’t judge him_. 

He stares at the word ‘typing’ for a long time, before Sousuke’s reply comes in: _Yeah, he always is, isn’t he._  

Rin breathes out carefully, closes his eyes, tries not to be frustrated. It might be easier, if he knows what Sousuke expects from him in this, but he doesn’t, and he doesn’t know how to ask. He hates having to be careful with Sousuke, hates having to make mistakes and hurt Sousuke over and over before they could both find a rhythm that matches this change in their relationship. The guilt is heavy, even if Rin had decided to fight. 

So this time, he simply sends off an _I’m sorry_. 

Sousuke’s reply comes so fast, Rin could actually picture his best friend frantically tapping on his phone. Don’t. Now you’re being stupid—I shouldn’t have told you any of this, it’s my own fault, idiot. You don’t owe me anything. 

Rin knows that. It still doesn’t make the guilt any less heavy. 

 _Doesn’t change the fact that I hurt you. You’re shit at lying yourself, Sousuke, don’t even try to deny that._  

He waits. Waits longer, but the line under Sousuke’s name doesn’t blink, simply states that Sousuke is online. Rin’s grip on his phone tightens, eyebrows furrowing, and he scrunches up his face in an effort to clear his head, to not give in to the pressure in his throat and the searing heat of his eyes, to breathe through the pain and fear of losing. 

He doesn’t let himself think it over. Doesn’t let himself argue about it. His finger taps on the screen in short, jerky movements, and Rin fights against the haze in his eyes that blurs the words together, forces himself to send. 

 _Do you want me gone?_  

He’s so focused in blinking back the tears, so focused in controlling his breath, so focused in waiting for Sousuke’s reply even if the ‘online’ never blinks into ‘typing’ until his phone goes dark automatically, that he doesn’t hear the sound of the fridge door closing, doesn’t hear the soft steps from the kitchen, doesn’t hear the way Makoto’s voice abruptly catches on the first syllable of his name. 

He stares and stares, hard, until an arm winds around his head and blocks his sight, pulling him backwards until the back of his head thumps against Makoto’s chest, Makoto’s lower arm pressing against his eyes, keeping them closed, and Makoto’s other arm winds around his waist, protective and comforting at the same time, and Rin lets his phone fall with a soft thud on the floor. 

“Rin?” he hears the rumble of Makoto’s chest rather than the actual words, and Rin takes a sharp breath. “What’s wrong?” 

Nothing, Rin thinks, but the only thing that comes out of his mouth is a harsh exhale, and he raised one hand to press Makoto’s lower arm harder against his eyes. He listens in the darkness, the sharp staccato of Makoto’s heartbeat, feels the way Makoto’s fingers dig into the hollow of his waist, and folds himself into the circle of Makoto’s arms. 

He can’t give this up, Rin realizes, and there’s some sort of relief in that. He could never give this up, not for anything in the world, just like he can’t bear to hurt or lose Sousuke, because Rin is selfish that way. He’d fight, or so he told himself the night Sousuke confessed, but he’s hurting Sousuke when he fights to keep their friendship, and Rin isn’t a simple seventeen year-old anymore—he knows damage, he knows pain and despair, he knows how familiar Sousuke is to them, and he can’t make him go through more. 

Not for his own selfishness, at least. 

He hears Makoto make a pained sound, like someone had gutted him in the stomach, and that in turn, makes Rin’s stomach churn. “You’re crying,” Makoto murmurs, and Rin’s surprised to find that yes, he’s breathing through tears now. His chest heaves, and he shudders, unable to swallow the sob breaking at the back of his throat. 

He’s _losing_. 

Makoto pulls him closer, buries his face into Rin’s neck, making a pained, confused noise that makes everything just that much worse. Rin twists in Makoto’s arms, throws his arms around Makoto’s shoulder and hangs on tight, presses his face to the side of Makoto’s face, and chants almost soundlessly _I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Makoto don’t—sorry—_  

“It’s okay,” Makoto murmurs, holds Rin closer, tighter—it hurts, a little, but Rin doesn’t mind. 

He hangs on. 

**\-----o0o-----**

Haruka shakes his head, a deep frown on his face, and if Rin doesn’t know any better, he might think that Haruka is angry. But like this, the way Haruka’s eyebrows taut and the lines of his body tense, he is simply thinking hard. 

Very, very hard. Any other time, Rin might have snort at him, because Haruka reserves his hard-thinking moments for things related to water and saba and—for the last few months, as they suspected, one Yazaki Aki who happened to move into the apartment above Haruka’s. 

Apparently, any problem in the dynamics between the four of them warrants this kind of expression, too. 

“It’s changed, Rin,” Haruka says finally, the frown still marring his usually smooth visage. “You need to change with it.” 

Rin shoots him a ridiculous look. “You don’t think I know that?” he retorts, anger clawing up for a brief second, but disappears just as fast as it comes, leaving him fumbling with shame. “I know. I fucking know that all I do is screwing this up, I know I should probably tell Makoto because he deserves to know, because he’s Sousuke’s friend, too, but goddammit, _Haru_.” 

“You’ve done it before,” Haruka answers, keeping his voice even. “Change. The way you and Makoto did years ago, figuring out your relationship.” 

Rin presses the heel of his hand hard against his temple. “This isn’t the same. You know this isn’t the same, Haru.” 

Haruka falls silent, the frown smoothing into something more of a worried look, and Rin wonders if Haruka, deep down, doesn’t want this either—this not knowing where to stand and what to do and the sense of waiting to inevitably lose something. 

“Yes,” Haruka says, finally. “It’s not.” 

**\-----o0o-----**

It’s fifteen minutes after Makoto’s gone out to do some emergency grocery shopping when the doorbell rings. Rin pauses, turns down the stove to make sure the miso soup won’t overflow when it boils and puts aside the onion he’s mincing, mind already going through the things Makoto might have left that he needs to go back: his wallet, the apartment keys, the small packets of treats he always brings everywhere for the stray cats he encounters— 

“What, did you forge—oh.” 

Sousuke stands before his door, face bitten red by the chilly winter air, like he’s been out for hours. But what makes Rin stop, what makes something in Rin’s chest drops down to his stomach, was the miserable lines on Sousuke’s face and the slightly lost look in his eyes.

Rin curses. “Come in,” he says—orders, instinctively reaching out to pull Sousuke in by the hand. Sousuke goes with him, movements hesitant and confused, and Rin’s heart sinks because he’s never seen Sousuke like this. Sousuke is never simply a rock, he’s tougher than a reef, steeper than a cliff, someone hard to reach and harder to conquer, and even harder to break. 

“Rin,” Sousuke begins, when the door closes behind them. “Sorry, I couldn’t—“ 

“Shut the fuck up,” Rin says, sharp, releasing Sousuke’s hand to point at the couch. “Go.” 

Sousuke obeys without so much a snark—and that’s worrying, isn’t it, because Sousuke doesn’t usually let Rin have the last word. Rin watches him trot over to the couch, waits for him to sit down, before turning to hurry back to the kitchen. He turns off the stove and puts away the miso soup, replacing it with a kettle—dinner could wait, he’d mail Makoto and ask him to bring back take-outs, maybe oden, it’d warm Sousuke right up.

“What were you doing out?” Rin calls out, deft hands moving to take out the mugs Makoto reserves for Sousuke and Haruka, snatching the packages of hot chocolate mix Makoto keeps under the stacks of cereals. He isn’t really expecting an answer—it’s not like Sousuke has been very open to him these past few days, and Rin hasn’t even talked to him since the night they last texted. 

So it’s a surprise when Sousuke calls back, “I wasn’t sure where to go.” 

“Huh,” Rin says, not sure how else to respond. Call him stupid, call him twisted, but there’s some sort of relief breaking in him at the reply. Sousuke still seeks him out. Sousuke still chooses to come to Rin first, when something wrong happens. It makes him happy, because maybe they could work around this tension between them, maybe they could change along to adjust how their relationship has changed. 

The kettle screeches; Rin reaches over to turn the stove off completely, careful hands pouring scalding hot water into a metallic black mug and a red mug with small orcas lining the side. He brings them along out to the living room, offers the black mug to Sousuke before letting himself fall one the couch, shifting closer to his best friend when Sousuke grinds  his knuckles against the bridge of his nose. 

“Hey,” Rin says, jostling him gently. Sousuke tenses a little, but then he relaxes, and Rin decides to push. “What’s wrong, Sousuke?” 

Sousuke cradles his mug of hot chocolate, staring blankly at the thick liquid that doesn’t reflect anything. 

“Sousuke,” Rin repeats, not bothering to hide the worry lacing his voice. “What happened?” 

Sousuke blinks. Inhales. Sighs. And then he turns to Rin, tired dark eyes boring into Rin’s red ones, and opens his mouth. 

“Mayu broke up with me.” 

**\-----o0o-----**

“I don’t fucking understand a thing,” Rin admits, turning a clueless look at Haruka, who has just surfaced and is shaking his head, sending droplets of water every each way. “Why would he tell Mayumi about being in love with me?” 

Haruka looks up, his gaze clear when it meets Rin’s. “Because Mayumi-san is important to him.” 

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Rin snits, offering his hand. Haruka pointedly rolls his eyes before taking it, and Rin pulls him up in one smooth jerk. “He’d risk getting heartbroken and losing said important person over an old truth—“ 

“He’s still in love with you,” Haruka says, pulling himself on his feet with a soft heave. “It’s not an old truth, Rin.” 

Rin swallows back his reply, and nods silently instead. 

Haruka shifts. “Rin,” he says, but he isn’t looking at Rin, he’s staring past Rin, and Rin is about to turn around and follow his line of sight when Haruka places a hand on his shoulder. “Talk properly.” 

“Huh,” Rin says eloquently, but Haru turns around, climbs the starting block and  takes another dive into the water, slicing into the water and disappears down smoothly. “Haru, wha—“ 

Then Sousuke says, “Rin.” 

Rin whirls around so fast he almost elbows Sousuke in the face. “Shit—Sousuke! Sorry, Haru was being cryptic, so I wasn’t—“ 

Amusement and fondness dance in Sousuke’s eyes, an obvious contrast of the deep dark lines under his eyes. “And miss the chance to see you flail around cutely? No chance.” 

It’s a joke, Rin knows—it’s one of their usual jabs, but there’s another meaning behind them now, when Sousuke says it, and he can’t help but reddens. “Yeah, well—“ he grumbles, lamely. “Stop trying to give me a heart attack.” 

Sousuke shifts, averting his eyes, and there it is, the awkwardness that settles above them when they stare at each other too long, now. It irks Rin because this atmosphere shouldn’t have a place between him and Sousuke, not when they have been bet friends for their whole lives. He wants, he needs to cut through it somehow, but he hasn’t the slightest idea how. 

“I think we need to talk,” Sousuke says quietly. 

Rin nods his agreement. “That’s what Haru says.” 

Sousuke snorts. “You told him, didn’t  you,” and it isn’t even a question. There’s no heat in his voice either, no resentment that Rin blabbers Sousuke’s long-kept secret to one of the people he used to be frustrated with the most. “It’s been kind of weird, with him.” 

Rin takes a moment to consider. “It’s not only about us, now,” he tells Sousuke. “Not now, not with Haru and Makoto.” 

Sousuke barks a laugh. “I made stupid life choices,” he says, but his tone agrees with Rin, and the fondness in his voice sends something warm to settle in Rin’s chest. 

“That’s because you’re an idiot,” he jabs. The corner of Sousuke’s lips twitches up as he rolls his eyes, and Rin has missed this, missed this casual intimacy between him and Sousuke, missed the jabs and the exasperation that comes with it. “So. Talk.” 

Sousuke stares at him. Rin forces himself to hold the gaze, the way he would before he knows anything about Sousuke’s feelings, because if there is a first step, than this is it. 

His voice doesn’t tremble when he says it, but his fingers do. “Do you want me gone?” 

Sousuke closes his eyes. 

“No. Never.” 

**\-----o0o-----**

Makoto is the first one who gets angry. 

“That’s ridiculous,” he protests with a vehemence, like it could change anything, like it could turn the tide and make everything better. “You love Mayumi-san. You stayed with her when she was in the hospital, you tried your best keeping all your promises to her, you repeatedly cancel or change your plans because she asked you to—“ 

“She’s jealous,” Sousuke says, short and clipped and so tired. “She never feels safe that I hang out with you guys, and she doesn’t think she can take it anymore. It’s as simple as that.” 

“Jealous of us.” Makoto throws him an incredulous look. “After everything you’ve done for her? Even when you prioritized her all the time? Because she knows that you’re bisexual, and your friends are—“ 

“Makoto,” Haruka cuts in, the slightest edge in his voice. “Don’t.” 

Makoto visibly swallows back the rest of his sentence, but Rin hears the bitter words that hangs in the air anyway: _and your friends are one straight swimmer and two open homosexuals involved with each other who joke around about checking out your muscles_? 

He reaches out, covers Makoto’s hand and squeezes it once. Makoto’s expression twists, a mix of guilt, bad memories and bitter anger. There are things Rin didn’t see, things Rin didn’t hear, back when Makoto’s life consisted of classes and university side-jobs and Rin was still so conflicted over his phone calls. It was only Haruka who got a glimpse of how Makoto dealt with accidentally being outed by his upperclassman, with the degrading and suspicious looks pressing from all sides and stabbing words not-quite-whispered in the hallways. It’s a subject that still puts Haruka on edge even now, even after Makoto willingly shared what had happened to both Rin and Sousuke years ago.

“I’m sorry,” Makoto murmurs, and he sounds smaller than the rest of them in the room. 

Sousuke leans forward, catches Makoto’s eyes, breaks a small smile and says, “Thanks for getting mad about it.” 

Makoto holds Sousuke’s eyes for another moment, before closing his eyes, squeezing Rin’s hand back, and his expression melts into a sheepish smile. “I was being stupid.” 

“You weren’t,” Rin and Haruka say, almost in sync, and that draws out a laugh from both Makoto and Sousuke. The tension in the room eases, even if it doesn’t help the lines of pain and loss shadowing Sousuke’s face. 

Makoto lets go of Rin’s hand, rises to his feet. “Well, let’s eat, then. I’ll get the oden.” 

“Mackerel,” Haruka says, pushing himself off the couch, but Rin catches the brief, knowing glance directed at him. Makoto laughs on his way to the kitchen, and Haruka follows like nothing out of ordinary happens. 

The silence is back, both awkward and heavy, tinged with sadness. Rin tells himself to wait, because Sousuke had loved Mayumi, had even considered to take their relationship to the next step, even if he is still in love with Rin. It amazes him though, that Sousuke has a heart big enough to love for two, to love deep enough that he ends up hurt himself. 

It’d be easier, Rin thinks, if his heart is big enough to hold love for two, too. 

“You loved her,” Rin says, quietly. “You loved her enough to try and give it a chance. Enough to give it your best.” 

Sousuke chuckles humorlessly. “I wanted it to work,” he says. “With her.” 

Rin nods. “Yeah.” 

“I tried my best,” Sousuke shakes his head, and there’s a distinct thickness in his voice now. “I learned to love her. To put her first. To put her before everything.” He pauses, and then, quieter, “Before you, Rin.” 

And how is he supposed to respond to that? Sorry doesn’t change anything, doesn’t make anything better. Sorry is as useful as Makoto’s anger just now. Sousuke doesn’t need it, not when it doesn’t make it less painful. 

“It was never enough, I guess,” Sousuke sighs, soundeing so defeated, so tired. “I told her that I was in love with you. Probably still am.” 

Rin’s whole body jerks at that, by the guilt and pain and disbelief, and he stares at Sousuke, wide-eyed. 

Sousuke’s smile is thin, too brittle to call a smile. “I couldn’t love her as much as I love you.” 

Rin isn’t sure what cracks him open; that Sousuke uses present tense to say it, that he’s saying it like it’s just another fact of life he never questioned, that all of the pain Sousuke feels are condensed into those short ten words, or that the words are practically dripping with sincerity, too raw and honest,  in a tone Rin usually hears from Makoto in a ceaseless chant of _I love you-I love you-I love you—_  

“Oh, Rin,” Sousuke says, eyes sad. “Don’t cry on me, hey—“ 

It’s Makoto who then takes Rin’s face and kisses the corners of Rin’s eyes, who traces the wet tracks on Rin’s cheeks with his lips, plates abandoned on the coffee table and oden completely forgotten in the kitchen. Haruka hangs back next to the kitchen counter, quietly taking everything in, and Rin ducks when Makoto tries to kiss him on the lips, because Sousuke is watching. 

 _Sorry_ , Rin mouths against Makoto’s palm when Makoto kisses the top of his head . _I’m sorry._  

Still, Sousuke watches, his lips a line that curves up into a small, wistful smile. 

**\-----o0o-----**

Sousuke began with honesty. Rin thinks it’s only fair that he begins the same way. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” 

Sousuke smiles, keeps his eyes on the pool, towards where Haruka is turning for another lap. “I know.” 

“I don’t want to lose you either.” 

Sousuke doesn’t answer for a long while. Rin wishes he has something he could twist in his hand, wishes they’re sitting down instead of standing. He presses down the urge to run, fights against the fear clawing up his throat, concentrates on evening his breath. 

“Do you,” Sousuke starts, quiet and small in the way he’s never been, like he’s actually even more scared of facing this than Rin is. “Trust me, Rin?” 

Rin doesn’t miss a beat, because it’s easy. It’s just a fact of life, the same as Haruka and Makoto’s telepathic relationship is, as how Haruka will forever take Rin’s breath with his swimming, as how Makoto loves Rin so faithfully, as Sousuke’s feelings for Rin. 

“Always.” 

Something flashes across Sousuke’s face. His eyes harden for a brief moment, like he’s trying to gauge Rin’s honesty, before softening back and closing completely. 

“I don’t want to lose you, either,” he says, and Rin lets out a rush of relieved breath he doesn’t know he’s holding. Sousuke gives him a funny look, one that naturally makes Rin scowl. 

“Shut up,” he kicks Sousuke’s leg, listening to the bubble of laughter escaping Sousuke’s lips. “You fucking scared me, Sousuke, you’re such a _shit_ —“ 

“You scare me, too,” Sousuke cuts, and Rin stops dead, because Sousuke’s eyes turn sharp, because the tired lines of his face turn into a determined one. “Because above everything, you’re my best friend,  and now you know, and everything about us is changing, and I don’t know how I would change—how you would change. How all of us would change.” The look in Sousuke’s eyes turn softer, and there’s confusion there, clashing with uncertainty. “I don’t know if we—if _I_ could do it, and I’m more terrified of losing your friendship, Rin.” 

Fear. Uncertainty. The sense of waiting to inevitably lose something. Rin remembers the look in Haruka’s face, remembers Makoto trying to ask if something happens between Rin and Sousuke, remembers the wistful smile Sousuke has the night he watches Makoto kissing Rin’s tears away. 

Oh, Rin realizes, feeling stupid. This is what Sousuke wants. This is what both of them wants. Haruka was right; this has never been a choice, because Sousuke’s confession might have changed their relationship, but never their feelings. 

Rin looks up, stares straight into Sousuke’s eyes. “I want to keep being your best friend.” 

Sousuke smiles, a hint of relief in his face. “I want you to always be my best friend, Rin. I never wanted to take you away, not when I know you’re happy with Makoto.” 

His eyes prickle at that. “You’re okay with that?” 

“Well, I’m not going to lie and say I won’t be happy if you choose to be my boyfriend, but,” Sousuke barks a laugh, half-amused and half-deprecating himself. “I value your friendship more than anything. The way I know Haru does. The way I know Makoto does, too.” 

“I’ll hurt you,” Rin tells him. “You know I will.” 

“And you’ll feel guilty every time you remember that I love you,” Sousuke counters. “And there’s always going to be this—elephant, between us, for god knows how long.” He turns to Rin, and Rin rubs at his eyes, trying to blink back the heat lingering behind his eyelids. He looks up to see Sousuke, with that one small smile reserved for Rin, relaxed and accepting. “Anything you’re willing to give me, Rin. I’m good.” 

“You’re a fucking idiot, Sousuke,”’ Rin grouches. “Go and get laid.” 

Pain flashes in Sousuke’s eyes, a brief one that spells out Mayumi’s name and not Rin’s, but Sousuke chuckles and says, “I just got dumped, I expect you to be my wingman.” 

And that, that wrenches out laughter off Rin’s lips, too—coming out in sharp sounds, thick with relief and hope. He hasn’t lost yet. Matsuoka Rin is selfish, too selfish for his own good, for refusing to let go of what he has in his hands even when it’s more painful to hold onto them. He’s fought hard for his selfishness and broken through, back when his selfishness takes the form of his dream and his friends. He likes to think it’s the same now, too, because between Makoto and Sousuke, it should never be a choice. 

“Promise me,” Rin says, because he’s still going to be dealing with guilt for a lot longer. “If it hurts too much to stay—if I hurt you too much, you tell me.” 

Sousuke raises an eyebrow. “You’ll let me go?” 

“I’ll fight you,” Rin says, voice forceful, determination in each word. “I’ll fight you tooth and nail, but if it’s what you want, if it’s what you need, I’ll let you go. I’ll wait.” 

Sousuke hums. “Like you waited for me in the National Team.” 

“I always trust you,” Rin says, and when Sousuke nods, stronger this time, he adds, “I’ll always be your best friend, Sousuke.” 

Because it’s the most he can give. Rin doesn’t have anything left when it comes to loving someone romantically—not when you’re in love with someone like Makoto, who cradles every little thing Rin gives him in his hands like they’re too precious to let go, who steadies Rin when Rin sways, whose love sweeps like a wave chasing the tails of the surfers. And Sousuke, who’s always known Rin best, must have understood that, too. 

“Let’s try,” he smiles, draws his left hand into a fist, and offers it to Sousuke. “It’s still going to be awkward, but we’ll work on that.” 

Sousuke stares at the fist, smiles, and raises his own. 

“Yeah.” 

Their fists meet in a firm bump, solid and grounding, and from the corner of his eyes, Rin catches Haruka watching with a soft smile. 

**\-----o0o-----**

“So,” Sousuke taps his shoulder when they’re in the lockers later, eyes curious. “Did you tell Makoto?” 

Rin blinks. “No. Not yet, I mean—“ he trails off, unsure. “Do you even want me to?” 

Sousuke shrugs. “You always tell him things.” 

“Yeah, but this isn’t just about me and Makoto,” Rin points out. He doesn’t continue, because Sousuke is silent now, looking thoughtful. Also, he needs to get back out soon and drag Haruka off the pool so they could go home. It’s two days before Christmas, and Rin has plans. 

Sousuke shakes his head, and then nods to himself. “Yeah. Tell him if you want. Later—the next time the four of us hang out together, after Christmas, I’ll tell him myself. Haru, too.” 

Rin hums. “It’s fine to wait until then. I won’t tell him.” 

“It’s fine—I’ll feel better if he knows from you, first.” Sousuke runs his fingers through his hair. “Besides, this feels like we’re hiding something from him, pretty sure you hate that.” 

Rin jostles him good-naturedly—movements a little too careful, but it’s okay, for now. “Totally your fault.” 

“No, yours for being irresistible.” 

Rin mimes gagging, and Sousuke laughs out loud. 

**\-----o0o-----**

Makoto is half-sprawled on top of him when he sends the mail to Sousuke: _hey, is it okay for me if I still give you hugs? Or lean on you? Would it hurt too much?_  

He isn’t even trying to hide the text, so he isn’t surprised when Makoto lifts his head from Rin’s torso, curiously reading the text. Rin holds his breath, waiting for Makoto to stiffen, to push away from Rin, to turn to him with a hurtful look— 

His phone vibrates, because Sousuke has the worst timing, the bastard. _Of course it’d hurt, idiot. You’ve been in love yourself, haven’t you._  

Rins hates how he could only see the back of Makoto’s head, like this. He opens his mouth, the first syllable of Makoto’s name on the tip of his tongue, when his phone vibrates again. 

 _But if you feel like doing it, go ahead. They’re nice. I’ll get used to them._  

It’s part of working on their newly changed relationship after all. Rin never expects it to be easy. So he fires off another mail— _I should fucking smother you to death, seriously_ —and that’s when Makoto’s whole body shakes. 

Rin stiffens. His first thought is _shit, is he crying_ , and the second is _wait, is that a snort_. 

“Makoto?” 

“Yeah,” Makoto shifts, turning so he could look up at Rin, green eyes still soft and content, even with amusement tugging on his lips. “I was just thinking that you and Sousuke are amazing, after all. It’s good to see you guys are okay.” 

Rin blinks. “You knew,” he says, almost amazed. “How—did Haru tell you?” 

Makoto’s smile widens, eyes crinkling, and god, Rin loves that smile so much. “No. I just suspected. I mean, everyone at least falls in love a little with you.” And then he buries his face back into the fabric of Rin’s tanktop, making his next words coming out muffled. “But if it’s Sousuke, I guess he must have been in love with Rin for a very long time.” 

Rin swallows. “Makoto—“ 

“I’m a little jealous,” Makoto admits, raising his face a little so his words don’t blur together, and there’s a small, sheepish smile there.”And sometimes, I’m incredibly jealous, because there are things you’re more comfortable to show Sousuke, and when it comes to you, Rin—I can get really selfish.” 

“Selfish and you don’t even belong in the same sentence,” Rin jokes, because over the course of their relationship, if there’s something Rin manages to teach Makoto, is that it’s fine to be more selfish about himself, that it’s fine to focus more on himself rather than what others need of him. And it’s nice, that Makoto is comfortable enough with him to be selfish, to not think about what Rin needs and tells Rin what he wants instead. 

Makoto smiles up, lazy and innocent at the same time, peering up, voice low and full of promises as he murmurs, “Should I show you, then? How selfish I could get?” 

Rin drops his phone on the floor, fingers reaching down to tangle into the unruly brown strands. “You play dangerously, Tachibana,” he groans as he pulls, and Makoto slides up with a chuckle that escapes into Rin’s mouth. 

Rin swallows it, and lets it settle warmly somewhere in his chest. 

**\-----o0o-----**

(It isn’t easy, and it takes time. Rin learns to not push when Sousuke’s eyes refuse to meet him, gets used to the way Sousuke slightly stiffens in his arms, and grows to be able to grin whenever Sousuke jokes about Rin breaking his heart. Sousuke learns to accept Rin’s new carefulness when they talk, gets used to the ache that comes with each apology slipping out of Rin’s lips, and develops a habit of burying his face in his hands when his feelings for Rin threaten to overwhelm him—at which point he’d usually have Makoto or Haruka’s understanding hand on his shoulder. 

Eventually, the name Mayumi ceases to cast a shadow on Sousuke’s face, and Rin and Sousuke start spending time hanging out together again, just the two of them. It’s stilted and awkward as hell, at first, but Rin thinks it’s also a part of what has changed between them. So long as Sousuke still invites him out for drinks, so long as Sousuke still makes long-distance calls to Australia, so long as Sousuke still mocks him about his fashion sense, Rin thinks it’s okay. 

Later, much later, there is a time where Sousuke calls Rin at three in the morning and says “I think I have a crush on someone.” Later, much later, there is a time Sousuke tells Rin that he can’t do this anymore, that he can’t stop being in love with Rin, that he’s had enough of placing the weight of his feelings on Rin, and Rin growls at him for being an idiot and fights Sousuke about it until Sousuke gives up at Rin’s sheer stubbornness. Later, much, much later, there is a time Sousuke enters a relationship with someone, and it’s Makoto and Haruka who takes the young man aside and tells him about Rin and Sousuke, about the changes and the things they share, about how it doesn’t make Sousuke love him less, and the young man goes up to hug Rin, thanks him for keeping Sousuke for so long, but now he’s going to take him away. Rin laughs because the young man is ridiculous, but also because Sousuke looks even more lovestruck afterwards. 

In the end, on the year Nanase Haruka marries Yazaki Aki and Tachibana Makoto stands proud by his side on the altar, for the first time since the night Sousuke confessed to him, Rin jokes about how he broke Sousuke’s heart, and Sousuke laughs heartily at the memory. 

It also happens to be the year Makoto wakes up to Rin’s kisses and a ring snugly circling the ring finger on his left hand.

Outside, snowflakes drift down soundlessly, and the TV chimes in the tune of Jingle Bells.)

**\-----o0o-----**

 


End file.
